A Pot of Trouble
by J.F. Treml
Summary: Ever marginalized, Snape remains undeterred in taking every opportunity to be at the right place at the right time should Lily's opinion of the Potter boy ever falter. Sometimes, however, you have to make your own luck.


A Pot of Trouble

Writing prompt - "Power"-I'm not in the Alas Earwax writing challenge, but I still enjoy the prompt...

"There's a reason that a potion works or does not."

With a wooden ladle, he made three stirs clockwise and one counterclockwise.

"Magic may be magic- but it's not random."

He put his hand out for Sam Livingston to pass him a kitchen strainer filled with a brown powder crushed from the root of the whomping willow tree.

Carefully, he tapped the strainer to the heel of his left hand laying a fine coating over the top of the cauldron's contents. He passed the strainer back to his partner and took up the ladle and stirred. Again: Three clockwise; One counterclockwise.

"But - you haven't even mixed it in…"

"And this is why _you_ are the assistant, and _I_ am … well… me."

Severus Snape lowered the cauldron closer to the flame and gazed into the steam rising from within. He couldn't bring himself to even look at his assistant. But breathing slowly, he settled the nausea that was rising from his guts into his throat. Having to lead along his partner was challenge enough without actually looking at him.

Sam disgusted Severus. People talked of Severus' poor grooming and oily hair, but Severus paid them no heed. Yet the soft, puffy skin of Sam… _Blech_! His hands were perpetually moist with perspiration and his breath reeked of licorice from the foul brown lozenges he ate like candy. If that were all - if there was nothing else but the physical - Severus could have tolerated him. But every word out of his mouth was mealy and weak, both in sound and meaning. Sam was a fool.

And Severus did not tolerate fools kindly.

"Magic is magic. But it is _**not**_ **random**." He emphasized the last two words heavily. "If it were, there would be no sense in sitting through these barely tolerable classes every day. We could just think it and it would be …."Although he always spoke quietly, his voice had been elevating and he cut himself short to avoid attracting attention. His eyes darted this way and that to take in the room without being obvious. His eyes fell on Potter and Black at the table behind them. Currently, there was nothing they were doing to earn his ire, but they were _there_. Enjoying themselves. And that was enough.

Then his eye caught sight of a mistletoe. It was dried and forgotten above the doorway into the dungeon from the hall. Sirius had put it there before the Christmas break in order to steal kisses from the Ravenclaw girls - nearly all of which he seemed to fancy.

Stealing kisses wasn't the only use for mistletoe though…

As he eyed it, he saw Professor Slughorn made his way from table to table in their direction.

"Just mind the potion. If you see so much as one bubble, raise the cauldron from the heat." With that he turned and strode quickly to the stockroom - notably, away from the advancing Potions Master. His mind was aflame: Resentment for his ignorant partner; Unease about the professor; Pure odium for the Gryffindor boys; And, the mistletoe …

He disappeared into the store room, but not so far that he could not still keep an eye on three things. He didn't trust Sam to mind his potion, so he watched that himself. He did not trust the Gryffindor boys for a moment - there had been more than one incident involving Potter and some tampering with Snape's potions. And he did not like Slughorn, which was due entirely to Slughorn's dislike of Snape.

He quickly found a good specimen of Mistletoe, found a clean mortar and pestle, and began grinding. His eyes darted between his four points of focus: Slughorn, mistletoe, Potter, cauldron; mistletoe, Slughorn, cauldron, Potter. Slughorn 'collected' good students, but had never taken any interest in Snape, when clearly, he was the best brewer of potions in the school.

Once the mistletoe was sufficiently ground and Slughorn had passed by his table, he collected the powder and made his way back giving a wide berth to the professor and the Gryffindors.

Back at his table, he glanced at the potion and gave it one clockwise stir and then made a note in the side margin of his text: 'Pinch of Ground Mistletoe - while simmering.'

"But that's n-," Sam started to protest. But snapped his jaw closed when Snape met his eyes.

At the end of class, one student in each group was supposed to sample the potion. This policy of Slughorn's was well known and regularly protested by other professors, but Dumbledore had unwavering faith in Slughorn's ways, so nothing was ever done to change it.

Snape handed the potion to Sam. "Drink."

There was no use protesting. Sam drank a swallow of the draft. It was a Babbling Beverage that caused the taker to spout all manner of nonsense and the room reflected the success of the students as it filled with a garble of unintelligible gabbing.

Of course, there was _one_ group, a pair of Hufflepuffs, who rarely succeeded in making their potions accurately. They had taken to trying their potions together so at least they had company in the hospital ward. This time if was a series of giant green zits that welled up on them, growing and bursting their green slime like a slowly boiling potion. Last week, their use of Nightshade leaf rather than Nightshade flower petals resulted in the production of a Flatulence Balm rather than the desired Influence Balm. Then, by toppling their cauldron and coating the table with the stuff, everyone who helped them clean up was seized by unrelenting gas through the remainder of the day. Of course Severus had both made his own Balm perfectly and recognized and even predicted the Hufflepuffs' mistake.

Snape, tuned out the rest of the room intently to listen closely to Sam's nonsense, and smiled at what he heard.

Dinnertime was one of Snape's least favorite times of day. Most of the other students enjoyed themselves and cut loose a little after a day of classes, but cutting loose required a friend, and that was something Snape had only ever had one of in the world, and that was Lily Evans. Unfortunately for Severus, Lily was not so limited. She was also not in his house, and everyone sat at their house table during dinner, which meant that she was surrounded by Potter and his band of self-riteous hooligans.

Snape's hand slipped into a pocket he had fastened along the his inner sleeve of his cloak and cupped a small ampule in his hand. Without moving his head, his eyes danced about the room to take in everything that was going on, waiting for the right moment. For three days he had sought the opportunity to act, and now he was starting to wonder how long his potion would be viable. He should have one more day before he needed to add more mistletoe, it was the most labile of ingredients in this balm.

This evening, however, was the eve of a special day. Tomorrow, the Gryffindor Quidditch team would play an inter school match against the Koldovstoretz team from the wizarding school in Russia. Every five years the triwizard cup competition between the Hogwarts school of Wizardry, the Durmstrang Institute, and the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic was held at the victorious school from the previous tournament. In the year prior to the tournament, Hogwarts was engaged in a Quidditch Tourney with the Russian Wizarding School and the Brazilian Academy of Witchcraft. Each of the school's house teams was entered into an elimination tournament. Tomorrow was the first of these games, and it pitted Gryffindor against the Russian's House Nevsky. As chaser, Potter would be exactly where he wanted to be: the center of attention.

Across the room Severus waited with his eyes locked on his old friend, Lily Evans. Before long her eyes rose to meet his. It was such a rare thing for Severus to smile that it felt odd to use the muscles in his face required to do it. Nevertheless, it did come naturally to him with Lily, so with his odd grin, he made his move and crossed the room to her. At this time Potter and his 'Marauders' were caught up in a crowd of well-wishers, which suited Snape just fine.

As he was slipping behind the Quidditch players, Sirius Black suddenly turned around and was face to face with Snape's spindly figure. Both of their faces froze momentarily, until Black burst into a smile and took Snape's hand and pumped it vigorously several times.

"I never expected you for a Quidditch fan, Snape!"

"I… I…," he fumbled briefly, " -just wanted to wish you all well." Then with a more forced grimace, "I hope you really take it to the Russians."

Sirius released his hand and swatted the smaller boy firmly (too firmly) on the back, "Thank you. And, we will."

"Sev! That's awfully big of you!" chimed Lily. "It's good to see you pull together behind the team."

Snape smiled again - for a third time today. _It must be some kind of record_ , he thought. His face felt the strain.

"Sometimes it just takes something extra to bring us all together, I suppose."

"Really, Sev, I'm proud!"

A pang of guilt hit Snape's heart as she spoke while his hand simultaneously decanted a spot of the Babbling Beverage into Potter's goblet behind her back.

"Thank you, Lily." He said, patting her shoulder as he backed away toward the doors. "Enjoy the match tomorrow. If I don't see you - ," he cut himself short.

Then his eyes jumped back to Potter, surrounded by a group of girls oogling him with stars in their eyes. This time Snape's smile was different - more a grin. This, he found, felt natural.

Just before departing, Snape pulled in a glove smeared with a coating of Influence Balm on its palm and placed his hand on the exposed arm of the Gryffindor Seeker. He then bent low and whispered 'Toast' in his right ear.

"You should have seen it Severus!" Sam squawked excitedly. "Remember the Babbling Beverage we made in Potions?"

"-I made…"

"Yes, yes. You made. Ok. Well, someone must have slipped some into Potter's drink! Gregory Thistlebaum made a toast to the Gryffindor team - kind of odd now that I think of it - he's on the team isn't he?" His voice trailed off for a second, but then his excitement stirred again and he took off energetically. "Anyway, the short and long of it is that Potter made a right ass of himself going on and on about all the girls loving him and his wanting to love them right back."

"That sounds like Potter to m-"

"But in front of everyone?! In front of _**Lily**_?!"

"Really? She mustn't have liked that."Snape droned in a mock disinterested tone.

"Mustn't have _**liked**_ it?! She flipped. Struck him right across the face and stormed out saying if she never saw his 'smug, egocentric face again for the rest of her life it would be too soon!'"

"Well, I must be going," said Snape.

Sam was suddenly shaken from his excitement. "Going? Going where?"

"To see a friend in need, Samuel. Don't wait up."

7


End file.
